


Through the storms

by Nikelaos



Series: An empty shell [2]
Category: A Song of Ice and Fire & Related Fandoms, A Song of Ice and Fire - George R. R. Martin, Game of Thrones (TV)
Genre: F/M, Fix-It maybe, Post Season 8
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2020-01-13
Updated: 2020-03-14
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:28:23
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 3
Words: 4,362
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22243351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Nikelaos/pseuds/Nikelaos
Summary: The sequel of "An empty shell"«I won't marry you»«You can't»
Relationships: Arya Stark/Gendry Waters
Series: An empty shell [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1601101
Comments: 15
Kudos: 71





	1. Never been simple friends

**Author's Note:**

> So, here we are with the sequel of the most angsty fic I've ever written. I hope you like it.

Gendry left the ship with a weight on his heart. When Davos had told him that he was recruiting a crew for the now Princess Arya because she wanted to leave for the unknown, he had struggled not to show all his bewilderment and pain.

In those four months, the faint and stupid flame of hope had accompanied him in all his movements, during the journey from Winterfell to Storm's End, when he studied to be a good Lord, when he rolled up his sleeves to help people - _his_ people - to put their things together to start a life away from wars. He had prayed to any existing god, New, Old, even R'hllor to give him a second chance, another opportunity to talk to Arya, to try to understand if their friendship had gone to pieces like his heart, or there was still a chance to get things back to the way they were before: two simple friends who supported each other.

_But we never have been two simple friends._

Finally, the gods had given him the opportunity he had longed for, but he had ruined it. He had gone below deck with the better intentions, but when he saw her cold posture and the total absence of emotions in responding to him, the fury and pain had taken over. He had said horrible things to her, but it was the only way to get her to taste her own medicine. And maybe he did.

But the one he had met at Winterfell was no longer his Arry, the impulsive girl who wanted to protect everything and everyone, without realizing that she first needed someone by her side. Not even the shadow of her best friend remained in her birthplace. Whatever had happened to her in the years they spent apart had turned her into a killing machine with no feelings. He had fully realized this when she had rejected his proposal: she had ignored him.

What made him feel bad wasn't her no, but the realization that throughout his life he had been used by all the people who surrounded him.

Mott had sold it without thinking twice.

In Harrenal he was about to be tortured and then he was forced to make weapons for the Lannisters.

He had hoped to find a family in the Brotherhood Without Banners because he knew what would have happened if he had followed Arya in Winterfell: he would have been one of the many blacksmiths to order weapons without even looking at him. And Arya would have been his Lady, no longer his friend.

But even the Brotherhood had sold him at the first opportunity, making him end up in the hands of a witch who had used him in the lowest of ways.

He had been used by Daenerys: making him a lord was only needed to secure the support of the Stormlands to her.

And Arya had used him too, and it was the worst thing of all.

_«I want to know what it is like»_

She was only interested in sex, not who. One was worth the other, and he was there for that evening.

He gritted his teeth as, after wandering for an hour or maybe more through the city, he crossed the courtyard of what remained of the Red Keep, headed for the stables, where the two soldiers who accompanied him from Storm's End were waiting for him to go back to what had become his home.

«Lord Baratheon,»

The boy turned and saw Podrick approaching quickly, «Ser Podrick,»

«The King wishes to speak to you before you return to Storm's End»

Gendry frowned. He had spoken to the King a few hours earlier when he had asked for permission to return to the Stormlands and had been granted without any problem.

_What is happening?_

«I will arrive immediately»

* * *

Gendry found King Bran at the head of the table of the Small Council staring at him with his usual selfless expression.

«Please take a seat,» said the young King, once they were alone. Slowly, the other man obeyed.

«I know you are going to get married, Lord Baratheon,»

He bit his lip uncomfortably: Brandon Stark could know everything about everyone, so he certainly knew what had happened between him and Arya. «I have to, Your Grace,» he replied only. «My new role imposes it on me. In these months Ser Farring has done nothing but repeat it.»

«It won't be easy to find a bride with the characteristics you are looking for,» he informed him. «Your bannermen will introduce you to daughters, granddaughters and sisters, some much younger than you who, despite the war, grew up like the Queen in the North before she understood at her expense how difficult, complicated and sometimes unfair life is. Many of them still believe in songs.»

«I imagined it, Your Grace»

«Many ladies become strong only when they are alone in command»

«I have to try,»

«Yeah,» he narrowed his eyes slightly, «and what ceremony do you think you're getting married with?»

Gendry leaned against the back of the chair. There was no point in lying to the King, «I will be sincere, Your Grace, I don't care. I think I'll make her choose what she prefers,» he paused, «I've never been a believer, neither of the Old nor the New Gods. So whether it's in front of a Weirwood or in a sept it doesn't change to me. I promise a woman to love and protect her, not to a god, whatever it is.»

Something very similar to a smile peeked over the King's lips, «I appreciate your sincerity, Lord Baratheon. And your choice also shows great respect for your future bride,» he paused, «it's the same choice that my father made,» Gendry raised an eyebrow, «the Starks have always believed in the Old Gods, but Eddard Stark decided to marry his wife in front of the New, to respect her creed.»

Silence fell, which made the young lord more and more nervous.

«There is one thing that unites the two ceremonies,» the King said suddenly «a tradition born thanks to the founder of your House, Orys,» the man paid more attention, «a cloak.»

«A cloak?» He asked, perplexed, clenching his fists under the table: the cloak brought to his mind memories that had become painful. Arya collapsed on his chest, with a laboured and trembling breath. He had hugged her with his left arm and with his right he had blindly searched for something to cover her and he found his cloak. He had put it on slowly so that she was completely covered, safe. She had kissed him gently on the base of his neck as if she wanted to thank him.

«Orys Baratheon conquered Storm's End in the name of his half-brother Aegon,» Bran's flat voice woke him up from his memories, «as a war prize he was given Argella, the daughter of the last Storm King. They took her to his tent, naked, in chains and gagged.» He paused, peering into his blue eyes, «a lot of men in his shoes would have left her exposed to the soldiers, then they would have raped her. Instead, he freed her, covered her with his cloak to protect her from the looks of his men and gave her to drink and eat.»

The young man remained silent.

«It is a gesture that has entered both types of ceremony. The groom takes off his cloak and rests it on his bride's shoulders, as a sign of protection,» Gendry's heart began to beat faster. «And the protection doesn't just mean protecting it physically from dangers,»

_«I've been hammering an anvil these past ten years. When I hit that steel it sings. Are you gonna sing when I hit you?»_

«but also stop her from doing nonsense,»

_«Arya, don't!»_

«or even provide her with the necessary tools to be able to defend herself.»

_«That's for me?»_

The King with flat expression and the ashen lord stared at each other in silence for a long time.

«I think,» the boy began, in a trembling voice, «I think I have to go,»

«I believe it too, my lord,»

* * *

Although for Davos it was a foolish thing, he had found men willing to follow Princess Arya Stark on a suicide mission and, ultimately, useless.

Did she want to find out what was west of Westeros? It was enough to ask the King.

On the other hand, he understood the girl's desire to escape, to move away from a place that had caused everyone only pain. One thing she understood about Arya Stark was that she was certainly not a coward, so _why run away_?

Having served several nobles, he knew orders were not to be discussed.

Not seeing her above deck, Davos went below. As soon as he reached his destination, his eyes widened, terrified: Arya Stark was laying on the floor next to a table, with her eyes closed, the map of Westeros beside her.


	2. Too late

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> Where Davos discovers a lot of things...

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the delay, but I have a lot to do in this period. I hope you'll like this chapter.  
> Chapter 3 is work in progress!

The port.

He had to run to the port and stop Arya before she took off. He wasn't sure what to say to persuade her to stay, but he knew he had to speak to her and apologize for the rough words he had addressed. He had almost reached the gates when he nearly ran into a man who must have been at least twice his age. He had no time to apologize that the other man gave him a short bow, «Oh, forgive me, Lord Baratheon,» Gendry was perplexed, while the man raised his face and stared into his blue eyes, «I am Lord Connington, one of your bannermen,» he paused, «you look a lot like your father when he was young,»

«Ah, yes,» he replied uneasily, aware that he could not ignore him, even if his whole being told him to run to the port without paying attention to the etiquette.

«I was hoping to meet you, my lord,» Lord Connington continued, «I would like to speak with you, in private. And,» he turned, gesturing to someone behind him to approach, «I would like to introduce you to my daughter, Syenna,»

_ Here we start... _ , Gendry thought, looking at the blonde girl in front of him, who barely reached fifteen.

«My lord,» she whispered gracefully, making a small bow.

«Lord Connington,» he said resolutely, trying to maintain a neutral tone of voice «now I have no time for you, the King wants me to do one thing and immediately,» he paused, noting the expression of the man getting dark, «come to Storm's End in a week, we will be able to speak more calmly.»

«Excellent idea, my lord,» the man replied, with a smile, bowing again, and moving aside to let him pass. After waving goodbye, Gendry ran into the city still partially in ruins, hoping to arrive on time.

* * *

«Princess! Princess!»

Davos had almost tripped over his own feet to reach the girl to see how she was. Kneeling next to her head, he was giving her light slaps to revive her. He sighed in relief when he saw her open her eyes and look around in bewilderment.

«What... what happened? Where am I?» She stammered, trying to focus on the room.

«You are below deck, Princess, on your ship,» he explained, looking at her with a frown. «I found you passed out. How are you?»

«I'm just tired,» she replied dryly, sitting up and slowly standing up, taking a few steps away from the man.

_ Tired? Arya Stark tired? _

The man thought back to when he had seen her fight in Winterfell. Not a single moment she had given in, and instead, now she was saying «I'm tired»?

He raised an eyebrow, increasingly perplexed.

«So,» the girl said, without looking him in the eye, «have you found a crew?»

«Yes, princess,» he replied, «even the woman you asked me to.»

Here, that was another thing he hadn't understood. She wanted at least one woman in the crew.

«They should be here at any moment, to load the ship and leave as soon as possible,»

«Very well,» she replied only, grabbing one edge of her black cloak and squeezing it as if to hide her own body.

A cloak.

In King's Landing.

With that heat.

His eyes widened, «you are with child,»

Arya raised her head suddenly, looking him in the eye, «why are you saying this?»

«Because I was a father,» he replied, frowning. «I know that look. And stay in King's Landing with a cloak seems a little strange to me.»

The girl was silent, and Ser Davos knew he had guessed correctly, «it's madness, Princess!» He exclaimed, «you can't leave for the unknown in your condition, it's too risky!»

«You are not in a position to tell me what I can or what I cannot do,» she replied, lapidary. «And above all, you don't have to tell anyone, understand?»

The man looked at her perplexed: that sentence made no sense. He didn't know many people in that city. Telling the King was useless, with his skills he already knew it, her siblings had left for the North, and there were no other people in the city who could be interested in such a thing. The only other person he knew was Gendry.

He whitened, understanding.

«Gendry,» he whispered. «Gendry is the father, isn't he?»

At Winterfell, he had seen her repeatedly going back and forth from the forge, and the spear with she had fought was made by Gendry, he had seen him work on it.

_ Oh no, not again _ .

In a flash, he found the blade of the dagger with which she had killed the Night King on his throat.

«I said: not a word,» Arya hissed, with narrowed eyes «in a few hours I will leave to find out what is west of Westeros and nobody,  _ nobody _ , must know, because it is useless.» Her grip on the hilt of the dagger grew stronger, but Davos noticed that she was trembling, «he will find a proper lady, he'll have children and he will rule on Storm's End much better than his father or his uncles could ever have done. I won't be there,»

Silence fell, interrupted after a very long minute by a male voice calling Ser Davos.

«Out,» she hissed, pulling the knife away from the man's throat and she sheathed it.

The knight nodded, preceding her above deck.

* * *

The men Ser Davos had recruited were just as she wanted them: curious and with nothing to lose. During the sack of King's Landing, they had lost everything and everyone.

«Kayla, right?» Arya said to the blonde woman, about thirty years old, stopping her while the others began to prepare the ship for departure.

«Yes, princess,»

«Follow me, please. I need to talk to you,» she said, turning her back on her and going back below where Ser Davos had discovered her secret earlier.

«Davos told me you had a family,» Arya began, once they were alone and away from prying ears.

«Yes, princess,» she whispered, trying to make her voice safe. «I had a husband and three young children,» she swallowed, «they all died because of the dragon, in front of my eyes, and I could do nothing for save them,» she closed her eyes, trying to back the tears that threatened to come down «this is why I accepted your proposal, even if I don't know much about navigation. I have nothing left»

«What did you do?»

«Fabrics,» she said. «My husband was a dyer, and I was helping him sell them on the market. Also, now and then, I used to help my neighbour who was a midwife,» she paused, «forgive my curiosity, princess, but why have you specifically asked for at least one woman on board?»

«Because I'm with child,» Kayla blanched, «and I need someone who knows about it,»

«And you still want to leave in your condition?»

«Yes,» she replied resolutely. «I need it.»

Arya thought of Gendry's blue eyes, his rough words, the dragon burning the city, the corpses burned on the streets, the city in rubble.

_ It's too painful. _

«How many moons are you?» The woman asked, looking at her from head to toe.

«Four and a half,» she said, with a sigh. «I am lucky that I don't show so much, but I can't hide it much longer,» she paused, «will you help me?»

«Yes, princess,» she replied in a low voice.

«Thank you»

* * *

Gendry arrived at the port breathing heavily. He had run madly through the city, trying to get there as soon as possible. Upon reaching the pier, he looked around, looking for the ship with Arya on board.

He didn't see it anywhere.

His blue eyes fixed on the horizon, noting a now small ship silhouette sailing towards the open sea.

«Damn it!» He swore, punching a wooden pole beside him.

Late.

He'd arrived too late.

* * *

Hidden by a pile of barrels, Ser Davos saw Gendry rushing to the pier, looking around desperately, looking for something. When the boy noticed the ship that had sailed out on the horizon, he saw him punch a pole, swear and then turn his back to the sea, leaving sadly.

Another Stark had broken a Baratheon's heart.

Davos could only hope that the boy he loved as a son would recover and be more fortunate than his father.

But seeing his head bowed and his fists clenched at his sides he understood that his hopes were destined to melt like snow in the sun.


	3. Shipbreaker's Bay

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I'm so so sorry for the delay. Please forgive me

Gendry saw Lyas, a boy of just thirteen, running towards him, ready to take his horse and bring it in the stables. He had arrived in Storm's End on the afternoon of the following day, with a dark expression, the words of the King and those he had addressed to Arya that echoed in his head. He got off his horse, whispering thanks to the boy, who took the reins and hurried to bring the master's animal to the stables, followed by two other boys who had taken the horses of the two soldiers who accompanied him.

«Welcome home, Lord Baratheon,» Ser Farring said, as soon as the boy entered the keep. «How did the Council go?»

«Very well,» he replied, heading inward, heading for his room. «Brandon Stark is the new King, his sister Sansa gained Northern independence and now she is Queen in the North, Jon Snow was exiled, and we decided that the King will be elected by the Houses of Westeros,» he explained laconically, advancing through the corridors.

«Ah,» he said simply, noting the boy's gloomy expression. His curiosity made him want to ask what troubled him so much, but he decided not to ask anything.

«Anyway,» Gendry went on, once he reached his room and opened the door. «In six days, Lord Connington will come to visit us with his daughter.»

«And how long will they stay?»

«I hope as little as possible,» he said. «Could you ask to prepare me a bath?»

«Certainly, my lord,» the castellan replied. «I will come to call you when it's ready.»

Gendry nodded and closed the door, going to sit on the carpet in front of the fireplace, watching the flames. At that moment, he wished he had something belonging to Arya, to be able to throw it between the fire and see it burn, hoping that his heart and mind would burn her memories.

* * *

Kayla walked along the deck, direct to below. They had been gone for a week, stopping in the various towns to retrieve food and somethings that could be useful for the trip. When she reached her destination, she knocked on the captain's cabin door and received no reply. She frowned: she hadn't understood much about Arya Stark, she was an inscrutable and stubborn woman, but she knew that she reacted to the slightest noise, so why didn't she answer? Concerned, she opened the door, widening her eyes.

«Captain!» she cried, seeing her slumped on the ground, unconscious. She ran towards her, throwing herself on her knees and taking her by the shoulders, making her head rest on her lap. Her green eyes slid over the young woman's dress and she noticed with horror that it was stained with blood.

«Ben!» she cried, with all the breath in her throat «Ben! Come here now!»

After a while, she heard excited steps descend the few steps that separated the deck from the door of the captain's room and the man who had the most experience by sea appeared in the doorway.

«We must dock,» she said, lapidary. «Immediately.»

«We are off the Shipbreaker's Bay, and the sea is rough,» the other replied, ashen in the face seeing the captain ashore, «it is suicidal to dock here, too many ships have sunk, bringing all the crews with them,» he swallowed, «even Lord Baratheon's grandparents ended up at the bottom of this bay,» he paused, «tomorrow we should be at Rain House, it's the safest place.»

«The Captain has no time!» she exclaimed, furious. «She's risking her life!»

Losing a child at five months was dangerously, almost all the women she had seen suffered such an event had died with their children, «will you tell the King that his sister and nephew died because you didn't want to dock because of fear?» she looked back at Arya, still unconscious, «we have no choice, we have to try.»

Ben gritted his teeth and nodded, running out.

«Inside the oars!» Kayla heard him shout, «raise the alarm flag! Three men at anchor and the rest at sails! We have to dock at Storm's End!»

* * *

Gendry was appealing to all the little patience he had to not get up from the table and send Lord Connington and his daughter to hell. First of all, the Lord's false enticements and now the girl's futile questions and chatter were driving him crazy. At the umpteenth stupid question about the war, he couldn't stand it anymore.

«Forgive me, my lady, but you are living in an unreal world.»

Frost went down into the room, and Gendry knew well that, later, his castellan would take him back harshly.

«Tell me, what did you do when you were seven?» he let himself go against the back of the chair, looking at her with narrowed eyes, «did you play, study, embroider? Well, I worked in a forge, hoping not to get burned and that my Master wouldn't get tired of me and throw me out on the street from where he had collected me a year before after my mother's death. At seventeen I was sold as a miserable object to the Night's Watch, I was captured by the bandits, brought and sold to Harrenal, almost tortured. I spent the War of the Five Kings wandering in the Riverlands with a thirteen-year-old girl and a fifteen-year-old boy with the Lannister soldiers on their heels who wanted our heads,» the girl was increasingly pale, while Ser Farring and Lord Connington increasingly tense, but he really didn't care.

«Other bandits captured us and sold me to a witch, who nearly killed me. Ser Davos saved me. I went beyond the Wall, fought in Winterfell against the Dead, to prevent Westeros from becoming a desolate frozen land, while you nobles of the South were quiet in your keeps, deliberately ignoring what was happening. I saw a twelve-year-old girl being crushed by a giant in order to have the opportunity to kill him and thus protect her people,» he paused, looking at the girl who was visibly trembling, «do you know how the King’s elder brother died?»

«N… no»

«The Boltons killed him during a wedding, with all his army. His pregnant wife was torn limb from limb. They killed his wolf, cutting off its head and sewing it on his decapitated body,» he sighed «forget the songs. Real-life is very different from the fairy world you grew up in.»

A heavy silence collapsed in the room, and Gendry was tempted to get up from his chair and leave, in spite of the education, but was blocked by a soldier who peeked out the door of the great hall, panting.

«My lords, my lady, Ser Farring,» he said, bowing his head.

«What's going on, Garret?» Gendry asked, perplexed.

«There is a ship that is trying to dock in Storm's End.»

«With this wheater?» Lord Connington intervened, «they must be crazy,» he concluded contemptuously.

«Or in danger,» the boy growled.

«They have the alarm flag raised, my lord,»

Gendry stood up and advanced into the room, «do they have banners?»

«Aye,» Garret whispered, swallowing, «The Stark direwolf.»

* * *

  
Gendry ran to the pier. He saw the dockers going back and forth, preparing what they needed to save the men in danger. Looking up, he noticed Arya's ship moving dangerously in the waves, about two hundred yards from the port. With the waves breaking violently on the rocks, the crew evidently chose to drop anchor offshore and try to reach the shore with a lifeboat.

«Something really serious must have happened to make them attempt a berth in such a place, with this sea,» whispered Ser Farring, at his side, visibly tense.

The boy didn't reply, he just watched the ship swinging, and from which a lifeboat with three people on board was slowly descending along its side. The boat thumped the water and struggled through the waves, approaching the coast. As it got closer, Gendry could distinguish the occupants. Two wiry men in the oars plus a blond woman who turned her back on him.

«Take the tops!»

The two men on the boat let go of the oars and got up, catching the ropes that had been thrown at them and pulling, to finally dock at the pier. Gendry came running, while the sailors tied the boat to the pier. The blonde woman finally looked up at him, letting him see Arya Stark pale and passed out on her lap.

«Please, Lord Baratheon,» she whispered, with a trembling voice and tears in her eyes. «The Princess needs a maester. And a midwife.»


End file.
